Star Angel: Awakening (Star Angel Book 1)

by David G. McDaniel

  It had to be the one that found him.

  She turned up the speed, focus drilled in on the line of the horizon beneath it until …

  There, silhouetted against the faraway fires of the Crucible, a tiny dot; a running figure.

  “ZAC!”

  She ran faster.

  “ZAC!”

  Closer. Till she saw him clearly. Together they closed the gap, impossible speed on both ends, running for each other’s outstretched arms—a fast-forward version of one of those cheesy running-across-the-meadow movie scenes.

  They hit and she grabbed him up in her mechanical grip, spinning him around and around.

  Laughing for joy.

  * *

  “You went back in?” Zac asked in disbelief, watching as Jess finished getting out of the Skull Boy armor. They’d returned to the group, overjoyed with their second reunion that day—even breaking into a running competition on the way back. Which Zac won, of course, sprinting circles around her as she pressed the suit for all it was worth. The sight of it supercharged her with absolute glee, watching him race round and round as she in turn went as fast as she could in a straight line. Like a crazy, hyper-sonic little kid, a head below, laughing, throwing up plumes of dirt as he circled and circled. Now they were back and she was finishing stepping free of the armor, feeling beyond frumpy and so unattractive in the ribbed operator’s suit. She ran fingers through her hair; rubbed her scalp, pretending to scratch as she discreetly tried to fix it.

  She must look like hell.

  “We had to rescue Willet,” she confirmed. The thrill of Zac’s return coursed through her. They stood alone, for the moment, near Satori’s command ‘thopter, apart from the main body of troops. The others could be heard not far away on the other side, still noisily celebrating in a congregated mass. It was an impromptu affair and would likely be short-lived, but for now the Venatres troops carried on like the Dominion itself had been brought to an end.

  Zac could not stop admiring her, looking her up and down and shaking his head in disbelief.

  She smiled wide; so wide it almost hurt, wider than she’d smiled in what felt like forever, so happy in that moment … it felt incredible just to be standing there.

  “You have the most amazing smile,” he said, and on top of his unchecked admiration the additional attention proved too much. She could only look away.

  He seemed to get her discomfort. “The Astake have a code,” he said. “They taught us to manage our fear.” And he quoted: “ ‘Fear is the Great Paralyzer. A warrior need not carry a gun, or a sword, or have vast physical strength to be great. He need only be master of his fear.’ ”

  She tried to hold his gaze.

  “You’re about the best example of that I’ve seen.”

  Most of her decisions, as she battled for survival, had been over-the-top courageous. Or foolish.

  She shrugged; tried to play it off.

  “But I was scared out of my mind.”

  He shook his head. “Courage isn’t about being fearless. After all, how can you have courage without fear? Mastering your fear doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It only means it doesn’t control you. You act in spite of fear. That’s exactly what you did.”

  Maybe that was true. At the time she made each decision, as she took each action that led her further toward her goal, there didn’t seem to be much choice. What she did in each case was driven by necessity. By deciding to do what had to be done and then doing it, even if it scared the hell out of you, did that make you courageous? It didn’t matter whether you were afraid or not, whether your knees were shaking, teeth chattering, heart pounding … as long as you did the right thing.

  Maybe she was courageous.

  Zac did the right thing. He’d gone after Kang. And defeated him, apparently. According to him he managed to stun Kang, ram him into the ground and run before the bomb blew. That was the last thing he did before beginning a mad sprint to escape the impending cataclysm. The blast overtook him, sending him tumbling through the air like a leaf, the heat and pressure extreme, and for a while he’d wondered if that would be the end of him. But he was evidently far enough away and, eventually, landed and kept running.

  After experiencing the force of the blast he was sure Kang must’ve been destroyed at the center of it, along with everything else. Zac was lucky to have gotten away.

  Jess found herself drifting, joy tempered by thoughts of him, of them, and of all the things that could never be.

  “I had your phone for a while,” his voice came to her, as from a dream. “The Shogun gave it to me, to prove you were dead.

  “The music was amazing.” He marveled in memory of it.

  Jess swallowed. “You listened to it?”

  He nodded. “Like nothing here on Anitra.”

  She forced a smile. If he had her phone then he might’ve looked through her personal stuff, including dorky pictures, poetry and things she’d never shown anyone. But, of anyone, Zac was the one person she’d want to share those things with.

  Yes, she thought. Zac was the one she wanted to share everything with.

  And never could.

  “The music took me away,” he enthused, the wonderful expression on his face driving away those desperate thoughts. “Made me glad for the few brief memories we had. Glad we got to experience the things we did. It was beautiful. I’m sorry I left it on the ship.” He looked genuinely apologetic. “It’s gone now.”

  How can he be such a feared warrior, she wondered, drawn to him so intensely in that moment. Zac was so sweet. Such a paradox. A total bad-ass, a warrior’s warrior, a man’s man yet … he had the most tender, compassionate heart, joined with the vision of a romantic. Now that he was fully awake, now that he remembered all of his past … now that everything was exposed he’d discovered his true self. And that self was a noble soul. Coming up through the brutal ranks of the Astake must’ve been hard for him. Must’ve challenged this inner conscience. Let alone what it took to become a full-fledged Kazerai. Why did he ever choose that path? How?

  There was so much she wanted to know about him.

  “You have a wife,” she said, completely non-sequitur and quite to her own surprise—wondering at once why she did. You’re such an idiot! she admonished, worried she’d just ruined the moment.

  Too late.

  Zac seemed to withdraw, remembering something painful he had, for the moment, forgotten.

  Her spirits sank.

  Then he laid a bombshell on her:

  “She’s dead,” he said quietly.

  Jess found herself blinking. Wondering what to say next.

  Wondering what to think.

  Zac looked off into the distance, strong jaw set firm against what must’ve been difficult images. “They used her to try to get to me,” he said. “She took her own life.”

  Jess steadied herself. Struggled with the right thing to do, the right next comment to make.

  Zac went on. “I missed my chance to save her,” he said. “I think she was trying to make me understand. When it happened, I was too late.”

  Impulsively she reached and put a hand to his cheek. He returned his gaze to her, looking down, pale eyes deep with emotion. He seemed to lapse further into the memory of that event, introverting, and Jess tried simply to be there for him; to give him space, to comfort him with her understanding of his grief.

  Then Satori walked up and the moment shifted. A glimpse of her bright red hair as she found the two of them and came over. Jess swallowed, somehow having forgotten the reality facing them, caught up as she was in the emotions of the moment.

  Satori stopped. Looked at them both. “Now’s the time,” she said, struggling with whatever decision she seemed to be making. She looked directly at Jess. “If you’re going to do it you have to do it now.” Behind her, out of sight, the revelry continued. The three of them were alone.

  Jess inhaled, a lump rising in her throat.

  “Do what?” But she knew exactly what.

>   This moment must come to an end.

  How could she ever have thought otherwise? All things came to an end, but she’d tried so hard to ignore the reality of this moment, of this place in time, to hold it ever still and unchanging …

  Managing to set herself up beautifully for the inevitable pain.

  It’s finally over.

  “If you’re going to take the Icon and go home,” Satori fought with her own good sense; reluctant, it seemed, “now’s the time to do it.”

  Jess looked to Zac.

  Desperate.

  He could never be in her world.

  Satori’s attention flitted between them and the main body of troops, unable to see the larger group but acutely aware of their presence.

  Jessica’s head had begun to spin.

  Satori looked to Zac. “If you take her and come back, you come back over Osaka.” She spoke as if sorting this out in her mind as she spoke. “I’m not sure I trust you yet. Even if I can trust you, if you get caught when you return and the Icon ends up back in Osaka … we risk losing it again.” She was spelling out the mechanics of the situation, coming to terms with what was, for her, an impossible decision.

  She settled her gaze on Jessica. “You’ll have to take a suit.” She was definitely struggling. As Jess processed her words, trying logically to understand what must, in fact, come next, she imagined falling on her own, on the other side, landing in the woods in a suit of the Skull Boy armor, unable to pay attention to those fresh concerns as Satori went on: “The Holy Relic has been too much trouble already.” Chewing on it, the wheels almost audible as they ground in her head. Convincing herself.

  Then, a firm decision.

  “Better if it’s just gone,” she seemed to conclude all at once. A command decision of epic proportions.

  Satori stared at her. “You take a suit, take the Icon and that’s that. The Holy Relic is no more. Done.” Jess was speechless. “But if you’re going to do it, it has to be now. And I mean now. We can’t linger and let it become known that we have it.” Then, almost to herself: “Otherwise I’m going to change my mind.”

  Suddenly Jess was completely torn. The moment, the moment, was upon her.

  It was too final.

  Zac, however, was the one who found strength. “I can never be in your world,” he echoed her own conflicting thoughts and her eyes snapped to his; an exact mirror of everything she’d agonized over up to this bitter point, uncertainty plain in his expression.

  Satori wasn’t blind to what was going on. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she said. “But you need to decide.” She turned and walked away, speaking over her shoulder as she went: “Quickly.”

  When she was gone Zac put his hands on Jessica’s hips, not wanting to say the things they both knew had to be said. Jess didn’t want him to say them either, and as he looked down into her upturned face she began crying even before he opened his mouth.

  “There’s a hundred reasons we can never be,” he tenderly wiped away the tears. Then: “In the short time we’ve known each other you’ve come to mean so much to me. I can’t explain how strongly I feel about you.” His words stung, even as her heart sang, and she mumbled something about him meaning a lot to her too. “I’ll never forget you,” he went on. Zac was so strong, in all ways, and in the face of that strength she felt more like a child than ever. Braced against the rock of his courage, relying on it, no courage of her own.

  And here, at this clear and final end, she began to doubt ever more forcefully. Should she just stay? Was leaving really the right thing to do?

  But of course it was.

  It had to be.

  Though it was the most difficult decision she’d ever made. And she thought to herself: in this one case, did it make her brave, did it make her courageous, a master of her own fear—with so much at stake, so much to lose—to do what had to be done? Did it make her courageous to do the right thing?

  Or did it make her a fool?

  Zac continued, admiration in his eyes even as he twisted the knife deeper. “Live your life, Jessica.” His face had become a blur. “You’ll be on an entirely different world. Your world. Guardian of this secret. If you never return … I understand.” And suddenly … a ray of hope. And the hope swelled. Multiplied. That she could, with the Icon, if she chose, return.

  The thought of that brought with it a small measure of relief.

  I could come back!

  It would be over the heart of enemy territory, fraught with a thousand difficulties, but she clung to that notion; made it the foundation upon which to build her shaky decision.

  “I have to admit,” he said, one corner of his mouth turning up unexpectedly in a wry smile; a weak effort to ease the moment. “It’s going to be boring around here without you.” And she smiled through the tears.

  He stroked her cheek. “I can’t tell you how much I’m going to miss that smile.” Her heart fluttered.

  Then he became serious. “I have to know you’ll be okay. Promise me you’ll live your life.”

  It was a terrible thing to have to hear. A terrible thing to have to say. All she could do was nod. And as she struggled with the moment he continued to wipe away her tears, his touch so gentle, so full of love that it only broke her heart more.

  She worked to steady herself, looking up at him through cloudy eyes. Wiped her face.

  Calm. In these final moments she must find calm.

  She wanted him to remember her always.

  But before she could initiate it, before she could reach for him, before she could pull him to her, not knowing if it was wrong or if it was right and not caring either way, determined to leave him with a sense of what he meant to her … before she could do anything he bent and …

  Kissed her.

  Held her as her knees went weak and her entire body trembled. She clung to him and kissed him back, with such passion, wanting him never to forget her, wanting never to forget this moment but, to her utter amazement, his passion overwhelmed her and that … that took her breath away. So full of love, so unexpectedly full that, for the briefest of instants his kiss washed away all sadness, all pain, leaving her welling up with such joy that her spirit soared. High above and far away from that place. Forgetting everything, lost in a moment of rapture.

  It was heaven.

  When finally they separated she reached and hugged him, crying softly against his chest. He squeezed her back and they stayed that way for what seemed an eternity, everything afterward a blur.

  At some point Satori returned. It was clear, in addition to her decision to help, she was more and more motivated to just close the book on the troublesome Icon. Other decisions were made. Jess went back to the Skull Boy armor and got in. They found a secluded spot. Willet and Darvon came. In no time she was suited up, helmet on, looking down at each of them through the familiar, artificial optics of the suit. The players in her epic adventure. Satori. Willet. Darvon.

  Zac.

  It was, all of this, about to be over.

  Then Satori was retrieving the Icon and handing it to her, careful to keep all they did far removed from the others. Willet was telling her he would make sure her story was told. Darvon as well. Then they were stepping back.

  Darvon looked at her with the purest of admiration.

  He pointed to the Icon. “It doesn’t matter where it leads,” he said. “Wherever it goes, wherever you are, you’ll always be an angel.”

  It was a bitter-sweet moment.

  The group raised their arms in farewell. Jess returned the wave. To them they waved to an expressionless suit of armor. While inside the fierce battle helmet tears streamed down her cheeks. Satori was firm. Willet grateful and still in a mild state of awe. Darvon wept openly, smiling even as he did. Zac’s eyes, too, glistened in those final moments, though he stood straight and tall. Jessica wavered.

  In danger of ripping off the helmet and running back to him.

  But she mustered one last surge of will and, before she could
consider against it, hanging in that moment of indecision like someone prepared to jump from a cliff and leave everything they knew behind—which was exactly what she was about to do …

  Twisted the Icon.

  CHAPTER 44: HOME

  The rip in the fabric of space popped at the edges of her awareness, mitigated by the suppression systems of the Skull Boy. Vertigo yanked at the pit of her stomach and she was falling.

  It was daytime.

  Sadness evaporated at once, replaced by a volatile combination of fear and elation. Jess saw her house snap into view, far below. There was the red barn, standing out bright and inviting in the field behind it. There were her neighbor’s houses. The woods. She was falling directly for them.

  Like waking from a visit to Oz.

  Gyros whirred, spinning the suit level, feet down as she plummeted from the sky. Impact was only seconds away but in the final stage of descent she had the presence of mind to activate the suit’s telemetry data and scanners, recording everything she could from that height. A few cars moved in sight; no people on the ground within direct eye contact. Data told her the transfer brought with it a loud boom. Somebody might have seen her. Many people no doubt heard.

  At the last second, just above the trees, she hit the jets and roared through the upper canopy, striking several branches on the way to the forest floor. Limbs snapped under the decelerating mass of the powered armor and … whump, she hit the ground with flexed knees, jets off, stood straight and looked around.

  She was back.

  On Earth. In the woods behind her house.

  Wearing a suit of fusion-powered armor from another planet, with a plasma cannon strapped to my back.

  She took a more detailed scan of the area, catching her breath. Gathering her wits. Carefully she found her way to the edge of the woods, as close as she dared, crouched and peered toward her house, hoping she wouldn’t be seen.

  And there it was.

  She viewed it on thermal. Heat signatures moved in the kitchen. Bodies. She resolved the details further, able to distinguish outlines she recognized. There was Mom. With her was … Bianca? Yes, her friend was definitely there.